The Dungeon of Trials (5)
Evan felt the fever in his head begin to cool.
Only after expelling everything he had bottled up inside, pouring out all that boiling heat, did he finally begin to grasp the reality of the situation. What on earth had he just done to Aria—the very person who had saved him?
From Aria's perspective, she had merely leapt down to keep him from plunging to his death. Yet the person she had risked herself to rescue had turned around and shouted incomprehensible nonsense, demanding to know why she had saved him, why she was always trying to sacrifice herself. He would be fortunate if she didn't throw back that she shouldn't have bothered saving him at all.
Wincing at the thought, Evan cautiously stole a glance at Aria. Strangely enough, she didn't seem angry in the slightest.
In fact…
Is she… understanding me?
She was actually listening to his outburst and empathizing with it. Watching her quiet acceptance only made the heat rush back into Evan's head—not the explosive fury from moments ago, but a prickling flush of sheer shame. He felt utterly pathetic. To have bottled everything up for so long without ever trying to have a proper conversation, only to spew out such crude, childish words now of all times.
To make matters worse, both of them were thoroughly drenched, their thin garments clinging sheer against their skin. The moment his temper cooled, the pale line of Aria's bare skin beneath the translucent fabric had caught his eye, and he had jumped in mortified shock.
Wh-What is this…?
Even out of flattery, Aria's body could hardly be described as alluring. She possessed neither a voluptuous figure nor the mature elegance of a grown woman; she was a girl with a petite, fragile, and undeniably cute appearance. Though they were peers, her frame was so delicate that it bordered on looking younger than her years. It was only natural that a boy wouldn't feel romantic or physical attraction toward someone so slight.
And yet…
Was this always my type…?
Not a chance. Before meeting Aria, Evan had possessed ordinary tastes—he had favored mature, well-proportioned women. But right now, none of that mattered. Even if he was a simple village boy who had never known romance in his entire life, he wasn't so dense that he couldn't recognize his own heart. The emotions he had accumulated while watching over Aria had long since transcended mere physical preferences.
Still, even if they were the same age, staring at her frail, slender frame made him feel as though harboring such feelings was somehow deeply inappropriate. Aria might slap him in anger if she ever found out, but Evan was dead serious. If she happened to have a complex about her small, fragile stature, bringing up anything related would be the absolute worst mistake he could possibly make.
Then what on earth was he supposed to say?
The only adult woman he had ever spent significant time with was his master, and the insurmountable gulf between them made romantic thoughts unthinkable. If asked whether he had made any female friends since enrolling in the Academy, Stella was the only one who came to mind—yet Stella was strictly a buddy, and not a single spark of romance had ever flared between them.
Aria was different. Watching her stand resolute and unyielding against countless hardships, agony, and the shadow of death… Watching her push through sheer, unbending effort to save a boy who had been twisted into a demon before his very eyes… Before he even realized it, this girl had carved out an overwhelmingly massive place in the heart of the boy destined to become the Hero.
Now, thrust into an unexpected private moment with the girl who held his heart, he sat frozen, agonizing over what to say and unable to utter a single coherent sentence.
Ah… What kind of pathetic bastard am I…?
He couldn't even manage a normal conversation. He couldn't even close the distance between them. How could he ever hope to stand proudly by Aria's side? To stand beside her… to promise that he would protect her no matter what…
How could he ever achieve that when he couldn't even speak while they sat stripped down to their undergarments, deliberately facing in opposite directions? The feelings he had realized against his own will were wobbling precariously, lost and without anywhere to go.
“[I apologize for showing you such an unsightly sight…]”
In the end, until their clothes had completely dried and Aria was the one to break the silence, Evan failed to muster a single ounce of courage.
Unsightly? Sure, to some people my body might not look unsightly at all—hell, some degenerates would probably call it hot as fuck—but I'd really rather not believe Evan is into that kind of thing.
The way he had turned his head away in bashful mortification after seeing my body was almost certainly just the natural awkwardness of being stripped down beside a peer of the opposite sex. I sincerely prayed it wasn't because he actually swung that way.
“…”
We had just been in the middle of a heated argument, and on top of that, we were both stripped down to let our soaked clothes dry. At first, since waterlogged clothing wouldn't trigger any special enemy abilities or lethal dungeon hazards, I had intended to just press on soaking wet. But for some reason, Evan had vehemently—almost excessively—stopped me. He grabbed onto me, insisting that it wouldn't take long to dry anyway and that we needed to proceed in peak condition.
Initially, I had been concerned that Danas would be worried sick after we got separated during the fall, but…
Well… we already cleared everything up to that chamber anyway. Unless he pushes forward on his own, Danas won't be in any real danger…
When I gave it more thought, unlike Evan and me who had just plunged into unknown depths, Danas was locked in a room that had already been fully cleared. From a purely objective standpoint of personal safety, his situation wasn't bad at all. While there was always a chance of unforeseen variables cropping up that never existed in the original game, this place was ultimately built to test Evan, not Danas. There was no need to stress over him right now.
Above all, no matter how worried Danas might be about me, he was a veteran who understood perfectly well how suicidal it was to plunge blindly into the unknown alone. He would never make such a reckless move. Danas had been an active adventurer before joining the holy order; his instincts for sniffing out what was doable and what was fatal were razor-sharp. If he hadn't possessed that keen sense of self-preservation, he never would have survived long enough to become a commander in the first place.
In a situation where he couldn't offer any immediate help, he would certainly understand that retreating—just as I had shouted right before falling—or at least staying put without doing anything reckless was the optimal course of action. So I didn't need to waste my breath worrying about him for the moment.
Still… this is embarrassing…
Ever since I ended up in this body, I had never experienced this particular flavor of humiliation. Because I couldn't see or hear a damn thing, the sensation felt even weirder… Sitting stripped down next to another person, even if it was solely to dry our clothes, was a brand-new experience for me.
Maybe I should look into learning some kind of holy art that dries clothes instantly…
For a split second, I contemplated pulling out the Radiant Sunstone to blast a beam of purifying solar divine power to vaporize the moisture, but I held back because that intense heat would probably incinerate my precious clothes into ash. Damn it all.
“I'm sorry… I don't know how to use magic…” Evan mumbled quietly.
“[…It is quite all right. I do not know any holy arts capable of drying fabric either, so it is I who should apologize.]”
Setting my own situation aside, if the Hero had casually bust out a magic spell here, I would have immediately realized this save file was completely bricked and hurled myself off the nearest cliff in despair.
Back in the game, there were occasionally players who tried to build a hybrid Magic Swordsman by splitting their talent points between swordsmanship and magic. But spreading stats across both disciplines always resulted in a half-baked mess—far weaker than min-maxing into a single path, and it made subjugating the Demon King a living nightmare. Unless someone was doing a joke meme run for the concept, nobody in their right mind touched that build.
In other words, the fact that Evan couldn't use magic was, in itself, a massive relief.
Though in situations like this… yeah, Stella's absence really stung. If Stella were here, she definitely would have known a few handy everyday utility spells. And speaking of magic, there was also her…
No, forget it…
I wasn't even certain whether I'd be able to recruit her down the line anyway.
At any rate, embarrassing as this was, it wasn't as if I was completely naked; I had merely exposed some skin to dry off our soaked garments. Evan had probably pushed so hard for us to dry our clothes because damp, clinging fabric severely restricts mobility. Swordsmanship placed immense importance on fluid footwork and seamless motion, so his reasoning was solid. In short, even if I wanted to nitpick his insistence, there was nothing to complain about.
“Aria…?”
“[Is something the matter?]”
“Well… the thing is…”
Did he have something he wanted to say? He had been groaning and fretting to himself for quite a while now, only to choke on his words and get frustrated with himself, making me wonder if he was in physical pain. Looking at the conflicted, hesitant expression on his face as he called my name, it seemed he had something on his mind but was fiercely debating whether it was appropriate to say out loud.
“No… it's nothing…”
Guess he couldn't bring himself to say it after all. Leaving someone hanging after getting them curious was mildly infuriating… but since our priority was clearing this dungeon, I figured I could just pry it out of him later.
“…”
Well…
My mild annoyance aside, even if throwing himself off the ledge to sacrifice himself in my place had been an entirely meaningless gesture, it had looked pretty damn cool. Seeing him slowly grow into a proper Hero didn't feel bad at all.
A small smirk tugged at my mind as I thought to myself.
Strictly inside my head, of course.